Nice Shootin' Tex

by Cyndia Rios-Myers

  "I'm here to win. I'm not saying that to alienate anyone or to be a bad guy. I'm saying that I am here to win because I need that forty thousand dollars for my son. He has a severe case of autism and needs lots of therapy."

  Footage after that showed Max playing with some cars with his six-year old son Junior who was cute but also looked like he was ailing. In an arrogant tone of voice, Max continued:

  "I'm not here for pity or for a handout. I can win this show based on my skills alone. But what I will say is that the money I will win will go to my number one fan, my son. I intend to give him the life he deserves, no matter how hard I have to work."

  I could not help the tears that left my eyes and ran down my cheeks. I really wanted Max to win now. I listened as Suzy sniffed her own tears.

  The next video that came on featured a vista I was very familiar with - it was my family's ranch.

  "Oh, no..." I muttered.

  Bob and Suzy laughed at my words. The video then panned on my face as I introduced myself to the camera. Arnold had done a great job. The sun was setting behind me and my long blond hair was streaming in the wind as I spoke about the ranch and the work we did. The video then segued to my shooting in my backyard. I shot with a Glock, the Winchester, and a few other sorts of shotguns. The camera went from aiming to my perfect form to the rounds I sunk into the target. I got bull’s eye after bull’s eye after bull’s eye. Nervously, I watched as all of the competitors seated before me and next to me looked back at me in surprise. Yikes. Looking at Trevor, I saw that he had gone from chatting to the other contestants to staring at the screen so very intently. Nervously, I swallowed and then looked at the screen myself.

  The video on the screen went shaky then - Arnold was running after me in the brush as I ran after a hog. I'd forgotten that he'd filmed it. I couldn't help but smile in pride as I watched myself tie up a large hog all by myself after telling the dogs to heel and get off of it. I laughed when a couple of the guys and Suzy clapped and congratulated me. The video changed one more time - it went to a dim bedroom and featured me showing my paintings to my brother. I watched my own face in admiration as I described my painting as an escape from what I did for a living and how I didn't want it to be my secret identity anymore. I looked at my painting of my boots and marveled at how beautiful it was. I really was good.

  "Oh, honey. That belongs in a gallery," said Suzy.

  I turned to her and smiled.

  "Thank you, Suzy."

  "I'm serious."

  "Thank you even more," I said with tears in my eyes.

  My video segued into Suzy's video. Short clips of her on the job and at the gun range stated the obvious: she was a woman comfortable with guns. What took us all by surprise was her dressed up in a beautiful evening gown with her hair all done up as she stood on a stage.

  "What's different about me is that I am an artist," she said to the filmmaker.

  She scoffed at that and laughed right next to me.

  "Not that different, apparently."

  I laughed out loud at that. On the film, she then opened her mouth and began to sing. Dear Lord, she could sing! She was singing some song in Spanish that I couldn't understand. What could be understood were the beautiful notes she hit with her beautiful voice. Everyone was as transfixed by the footage as I was.

  "If I were to win the competition, I would use the money for singing lessons. It would be a dream to be able to sing professionally."

  Turning to Suzy, I whispered, "You are awesome! I've got the chills!"

  Suzy smiled.

  "Thank you, Lauren."

  The video montage ended with Bob's video. He was retired Army who taught Sunday school and did carpentry work as a side job. His family life was great. I kind of hoped that he would win too.

  Trevor walked in front of the screen and pointed a remote at a laptop sitting on stool before turning around to face us. With the last image paused, he spoke to us.

  "Those are some pretty impressive back stories there. It makes you wonder, what is the driving force behind your fellow competitors? Is it their skills with weaponry, or is it there desire for something else beyond that skill?"

  Trevor's words were spot-on. I didn't want this to prove to the world that I was the best shot; I wanted it because I wanted something more for myself than hog-hunting and being the young girl my brothers and father thought I was.

  "The only way to gauge how hard your fellow competitors are willing to fight is to meet them on the firing line, which is why we will begin tomorrow morning."

  Trevor went on to explain that we would be broken up into two groups tomorrow morning. We would take turns learning how to fight a weapon in a specific course of fire under an expert trainer. After a significant pause, he said that tomorrow we would learn which two contestants would be up for elimination which would occur the following day. It would go on that way until the end of the competition which would be in about twenty days or so. Looking around at the folks around me, I wondered who would be the first to go. Someone might have a good day or a bad day tomorrow which might affect everyone's outcome. There was just no way of knowing, I figured.

  Just then, the sound of rain pelting on the tent above us made me lift my head to look up. It was loud. Seconds later, a bunch of production assistant types came with plastic tarps and coverings which they then placed atop all of the electronic equipment. Trevor spoke to someone in a cooking smock who came up to him. He made a pointing motion from the tent with the food to inside of the mansion. That person then nodded and ran off in the rain. When Trevor turned to face us, he smiled and then raised his voice, trying to be heard over the rain.

  "For those of you unfamiliar with the weather of the Pacific Northwest, it is this: lots of rain. Let's go ahead and make a run for the mansion. Dinner will be served in there."

  We did just that. One of the production assistants built a fire in the massive fireplace by the windows. The beer was cold. The barbequed meat was savory and hot. With the sound of the rain outside and in the company of my yet-to-be competitive competitors, it made for a great night. For the fourth time that day, I told myself that I was glad that I came.

  Chapter 11

  The following morning I dressed warmly for brisk and wet weather. I then made my way to the practice grounds. Back at the house, we'd been broken up into two groups. Bob and Suzy were on the other team which was a bit unfortunate. I was in the same team that Max the Marine and Sam - the cop were on. Strong competitors, those two.

  We were up first for training on the practice grounds. The walk had not been that bad; maybe only ten minutes away from the house. Once there, we were asked to sit on long benches by none other than Trevor, our host. I sat in the front row and tried to catch his eye for the first five minutes to no avail; he simply would not look at me. What was going on? A brisk breeze blew my blond hair across my face. Chilled, I pulled a hair tie out of my jacket pocket and pulled my long hair into a ponytail. Just then I felt the weight of someone's stare at to the right of me. Looking off in that direction, I saw a tall, dark-featured man leaning on a rock out-cropping. At his feet were what looked like green metal magazine boxes. Looking up at his face again, I got the feeling that he was staring right at me; the realization gave me a shock to the center of my chest for some reason. I couldn't tell, though because he had dark sunglasses on along with a black windbreaker and black jeans. Taking the time to look at him, I noticed that he had dark skin that was almost copper in color. Was he Mexican? Was he Native American? I couldn't tell. What I could tell was that he was a hottie, though. I then heard someone clearing their throat to the left of me, but even that seemed vague to me; I simply couldn't tear my eyes off of the mysterious man in black. I only shook myself to the present when I saw the corner of the man's lip curl up in a bit in a smile.

  "Miss McCoy? If I could have your attention I surely would appreciate it."

  Trevor's voice effectively woke me up from my stupor. Embarrassed, I glanced away from t
he man in black and towards Trevor who was staring down at me. He had a slight smile on his face, but his eyes didn't match the humor there - they looked unhappy.

  "Something over there keeping your attention away from our discussion of this morning's training?"

  Embarrassed, I felt blood rush to my face. The titters from my fellow competitors made me cringe. Still, I spoke up for myself.

  "Yes. I was staring at the magazine boxes by the gentleman's feet over there and was wondering if they carried M16 ammunition or not."

  The laughed died as Trevor nodded at that. His smirk disappeared too.

  "Oh. Well, that actually happens to be the weapon you all are going to be practicing on this morning."

  His tone was contrite, but I didn't care. He didn't need to embarrass me in front of my competition. Didn't he know how hard I would have to work to be considered an equal here? All I did in response to his words was shrug before looking away at him. Trevor went on to describe the training and safety procedures as well as what was going to be expected of us. I think that I felt him trying to get me to look at him, but I would not. I was angry. It didn't matter that his first suspicion was correct - that I had been checking out the handsome subject matter expert.

  Just then, Trevor turned to the subject matter expert who walked our way. Wow. He was a large fellow. He probably stood at least six feet tall. Darnit, he looked good.

  "Let me be the first to introduce you to Daniel Serrano - our expert with M16 rifles, along with many other firearms. He is in the Army Reserve and happens to be a maker of firearms as well as being a maker of traditional, Apache weaponry. Please pay close attention to his instruction as he has much to teach you."

  Oh, Jiminy Christmas! He was Apache! That explained his dark, sexy looks. He didn't say much as he looked us over. He pointed to Max first and spoke to him in a deep voice.

  "You first. Come on over."

  He then walked over to the training ground without looking back to see if Max had followed. I watched as he spoke to Max, but could not hear what was said. Max grabbed the M16 rifle in an expert fashion and showed how he aimed it to the target. Daniel Serrano was probably giving him pointers on what to do better because he pointed at the weapon and spoke, which resulted in Max shifting his stance. He then let out a few shots that seemed to hit very close to the bulls eye.

  While we waited for our turn, Trevor engaged us in conversation. He tried to get me to talk to him, but I only replied in monosyllabic responses. I was still mad at him; I could have sworn that the guys were treating me just a bit more...cooler.

  I was the last one to be summoned by Daniel Serrano. Looking around, I saw that the rest of the competitors were beginning to walk back to the house. Summoning some courage, I stood up and walked towards the handsome subject matter expert.

  His face split into a smile as soon as I approached him, and oh, it was a great smile. It warmed me up and I smiled too.

  "Come on, Texas," he said as I got closer.

  That surprised me.

  "How do you know I'm from Texas?"

  "That accent of yours," he quipped back.

  Oh my, Lord!!! He was flirting with me.

  "Uh, uh. I was only giving one syllable responses to Trevor back there. This is the first time I've ever spoken to you. How do you know I'm from Texas?" I asked with a smile. I was so flirting back with him.

  He laughed out loud at that, a beautiful and husky sound that excited me. He took his sunglasses off and hung them from his jacket front before answering.

  "Alright, Texas; you got me there." He rolled his eyes before continuing. "Us subject matter experts," he air-quoted that part, "usually go through the introduction/audition videos before we sit down to train the contestants. Just to know what to expect and to see what that contestant might need instruction on."

  I sighed and nodded at that. "That sounds fair."

  He smiled that sexy smile of his at me. "You don't need much instruction, I'm afraid."

  I laughed out loud at that. "I don't know. I don't shoot M16's much at all."

  "Winchesters have much more of a kick. You'll be fine."

  I looked around and saw no one but Trevor sitting on the bench looking our way.

  "So what are we going to do with our time?" I asked with a smile.

  He sighed. "Well, I wouldn't be a responsible subject matter expert if I didn't at least watch you shoot."

  He then handed me the M16 and gave me the magazine to insert. After some rapid fire instructions on his part, and very professional directions on how to manually handle the weapon, I pulled the trigger. It was no mystery to me that I kicked butt at it. When I was done, I looked up at him and saw that he was smiling.

  "Texas, I have never seen anything like you with a gun. Especially not a one hundred pound little thing like you. Where do you get it from?"

  I laughed and blushed at the praise. I put the safety on and then set the gun on a small table next to me.

  "I couldn't tell you. My dad's an excellent shot too, but for some reason," I pointed at the gun and at the target with my hand, "this has always come easy for me. I know that I'm small too. It makes no sense."

  He laughed too.

  "Well, don't tell anyone else this, but I think you'll kick butt at this."

  I smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

  He took the gun from me and set it down. He then looked at me with a curious expression on his face.

  "What?" I asked him.

  "I don't know...I might get in trouble for asking you this. This is a good gig and I don't want to lose the money I get coming here to help shooters out."

  Looking around, I saw that no one was around us.

  "I won't tell if you won't tell."

  He nodded.

  "Good. I have a business proposition for you."

  That surprised me. I was sure he was going to ask me on a date or something.

  "Oh?" I curiously said. I hoped that my disappointment didn't show on my face.

  "Your ranch is at Olney, right?"

  My heart beat strong at his question. I knew that I didn't mention the city I was from during my audition video. How much did Daniel Serrano know about me? Shaking that thought out of my head, I answered his question.

  "I am. Why do you ask?"

  "My reservation? The Mescalero Apache Indian reservation? We are being overrun by hogs. It's awful. We need good outside help. I would love to hire you and your family to come out to see us to give us any advice you might be able to."

  Excitement made the blood rush through my veins. Sure, it wasn't a date but it was a promise to see him in the future again. Heck, maybe I'd see him a few times.

  "Mescalero? That's what, six hours away from us?"

  He smiled and shook his head. "No. More like eight."

  I laughed at that and then took a few seconds to consider his words. I thought that Arnold and Tim would definitely be onboard. Maybe even Pa.

  "Well...we haven't taken any out-of-state jobs yet, but that's not to say we won't do it. We don't make a practice of turning business away."

  He smiled at that. "That's great. My family will be glad to hear it. So will the rest of my community."

  Darn. He said his family. Did that mean that he had a wife and kids? I had no idea. Should I ask? Gosh, of course not. Think like a professional, think like a professional I admonished myself. Reaching for my wallet in my jacket, I pulled out a business card and handed it to him. He smiled at my card and stared at it for a few seconds before slipping it into his own wallet.

  "Good. Well...I'll probably won't contact you for the next few months. After I leave here today, I've got a long job to do elsewhere."

  The excitement that was a balloon inside of me began to deflate a bit. Maybe he wouldn't contact me at all. Trying to make light of the situation, I interjected some words.

  "Well...best case scenario, I'll be available no sooner than three weeks from now. Worst case scenario, I'll be available in three days."


  He laughed at that. "I doubt that, Texas. You are good."

  I smiled at that. Daniel then looked at something behind me and rolled his eyes.

  "Well, you'd better get going. Trevor is starting to look awfully suspicious."

  I looked back and saw Trevor standing there, eyeballing us with his arms crossed over his chest. I looked back at Daniel and shrugged which made him smile.

  "You watch out for Mr. Trevor Garrett. I think he's trouble."

  I tilted my head at that. "What kind of trouble?"

  Daniel laughed again and shook his head. "Just trouble. But hey, maybe you like trouble. If you do, then have fun with it."

  Oh, dear. The brush off. Daniel Hotness Serrano was only interested in me in a professional manner. Ah well; it was nice talking to him anyway. I took a step back from him and smiled one more time.

  "Call us when you are able. We'd love to do business with you guys."

  He nodded at that and smiled. "We'll call you. Good luck with the competition, okay?"

  It was a goodbye. "Thank you, Daniel Serrano."

  "The pleasure was mine," he said with a smile before turning away from me and grabbing the weaponry around him.

  Sighing, I turned around and began to walk back to the house. In no time at all, Trevor was at my side. He said nothing for a few seconds, so I said nothing too. After a minute, he spoke.

  "I get the feeling that you are angry with me, Lauren. Are you?"

  I looked at his face and saw that he was serious. I decided to cut him some slack as soon as I remembered what his role was.

  "Don't mind me. I'm okay. I know that you have a job to do which you are doing quite well by the way."

  He stopped right next to me. I did the same. His green eyes bore into mine for a few seconds before he spoke to me.

  "Stop that," he seriously said.

  Suddenly, I didn't hear anything around me. Everything was quiet with the exception of the blood rushing and pounding in my ears.

  "Stop what?"

  He took a deep breath and looked at some indeterminate point behind me before looking back at me with a serious expression on his face. He released his breath before speaking again.